I have a real soft spot for the novels of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Rather like the cinema of the nineteen seventies in relation to the film industry now, these books are the experimental and unintentionally disturbing progenitors of the tropes and methods that came after them. Charlotte Temple is notable because it is the first American bestseller. I found it amusing-especially the segments where the author breaks the fourth wall to address possible detractors of her plot and style-but honestly it is what we would call slut shaming today, in a big way. Ok, so Charlotte lived with Montraville before marriage and had a child out of wedlock? That was not as uncommon an arrangement back then as we think. However, this being a moralistic instructional novel meant to lead virtuous (read, the idle upper middle class girls in nice neighborhoods of large cities, the most likely audience) girls down the narrow path of modesty and feminine virtue. To illustrate the moral of her tale, Rowson has fortune conspire against poor Charlotte Temple at every turn to punish her for her sin. Her friend and lover turn against her, she is put out of her house, a kindly neighbour goes out of town when she needs someone to appeal to in her hour of need. Even the post office is an agent of divine retribution-her letter to her parents is delivered late, and in true sentimentalist fashion Charlotte's father doesn't arrive to rescue her from squalor until she is literally on her death bed. These novels were the after school specials of their day. All those scenes of characters clasping their hands and beseeching heaven are melodramatic and humourous to our more restrained modern sensibilities, but don't think that similar shock tactics aren't being played to make girls fear their own sexuality and criminalize their own sexuality. Reading Charlotte Temple, I vividly remember my own teen years in the the Bush era golden age of Christian evangelism. I was by no means the only teenage girl to make a purity pledge in a Baptist Sunday school class, or to have it drilled in my head that abstinence was the choice of girls of moral fiber, while sex before marriage inevitably led to unwanted pregnancy, STDs up to and including AIDS, and a social purgatory in which no man would ever truly respect me and conversely I would never respect myself. The words 'eternal damnation' were never used-because after all that they would have been redundant, and because the people delivering this message to us knew they had planted a pernicious seed of self loathing that would do the work of a year's worth of sermons. In Charlotte Temple, I recognized the same attitudes that encourage girls to hate themselves for being sexual beings. I would love to read Charlotte's side of the story-why did she run away with Montraville? Was she bored to death at her chi-chi girls' academy, and wanted a bit of fun? Was he just a tool to fulfill her awakening longings, and a ticket to an adventurous new life in a rugged new land? In condemning a woman's appetites, authors like Rowson also simplify them. I wouldn't have read this book if it hadn't been assigned in the Women Writer's class I am currently taking, but like other novels of this era I have read I find it fascinating how closely the social attitudes, debates, and issues of our time so closely align with those of the Napoleonic age.
As America’s first bestseller, Charlotte Temple’s place in literary history is indisputable. The story follows Charlotte from her quiet life at boarding school to her troubling time in the United States after being seduced by a British soldier. Rowson’s mission was to caution young girls about the consequences of behaving badly. Judging by the unfortunate end Charlotte meets after participating in some unsavory activities, I’m guessing that those young ladies got the message.I typically enjoy seeing women as the protagonist in a novel, but the protagonist is no heroine here – and with a narrator that injects her opinions like a condescending nanny, inexplicable deaths, and drama more over-the-top than that of daytime television – I was pretty disappointed in the story.Yes, it has historical significance that will make it interesting if you’re looking to read a novel that has such significance, but beyond that I can’t say much in favor of it. It is an easy read, and while the language used is typical of the period, it won’t be a difficult read for most.Must more interesting than the story itself is the analysis of the novel I've seen – from the French and English names, to the parent/child relationship reflecting British/American relations, there seems to be a lot to read between the lines.There is a sequel to this novel, but I have no desire to read it. I won’t be one to up my rating of this book because of its place in history or anything like that. It was an okay read. In the right context, it can be an enjoyable one, but those looking for an engaging and interesting plot should look far, far away.
What do You think about Charlotte Temple (1987)?
This book is for sure ridiculous. It's preachy, and filled with disaster and doom and dead babies, and you imagine that if it were to have a musical accompaniment, it would primarily be wailing stringed instruments.But! There's something to be said for a book that not only writes, "Silly naive girls, don't run off with sexy soldiers because they'll knock you up and leave you to die," but also provides the reader with all the actual lust and knocking-up action, too. Charlotte might have allowed herself to be seduced, but I'm pretty sure we all would have, in her place.An epic battle between good-girl morality and frivolously hot lovin', it's definitely worth the read, if for no other reason than to appreciate a piece of classic sentimental literature that, I believe, may have at one point been outselling the Bible. Good times.
—Monica!
In every lit class, there comes an awkward moment when the professor has just assigned a reading he or she is unsure about. The students are already packing up, and the professor is doubting the quality of the assigned work. And so, just as the students are heading out to lunch, the professor casually tosses out a small disclaimer. These form a catalog of hilarious understatements. My Gender and Politics prof warned us that Judith Butler is 'kinda dense,' and a Shakespearean guy admitted that "The Jew of Malta" is perhaps 'a teensy bit anti-Semitic," and a total whacko allowed that assigning the entirety of "Huck Finn" in one night was 'not an easy reading load.'I was therefore very worried when my professor, after telling us to read "Charlotte Temple" tonight, delivered an impromptu lecturer After all, even if we think the novel is an unmitigated piece of crap, we shouldn't impose the aesthetic norms of today onto a different time period. Also, these aren't novels, but works, and works exist in a transcendental sphere of language, and literary criticism is a juvenile attempt to force human sensibilities onto the god-like state of the word. When a professor resorts to semiotics and half-baked literary theory and begs you not to hate "Charlotte Temple," you should be worried.To resort to the old cliche, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.Things that made me want to cry:The quality of the proseThe authorial intrusions (started out gimmicky, became torturous)The utter lack of actual, you know, charactersThe over-dramatic plot progressionThe unearned sentimentalism dripping from every pageRemembering that Charlotte is 15The dialogue (because people totally talked like that, right?)Things that made me want to laugh:Imagining rich girls having to read "Charlotte Temple" for moral instructionRealizing that Charlotte is just a British Fantine who can't singTherefore imagining 15 year old Charlotte as Anne HathawayThe heroine getting pregnant without any actual sex (gotta protect the innocent minds of our readers!)The heroine giving birth without any actual pregnancy symptomsAnd my absolute favorite:The author acknowledging, at various parts throughout "Charlotte Temple," that her novel sucks
—Anna C
Charlotte Temple (formerly subtitled A Tale of Truth) is the Go Ask Alice of the early nineteenth century, being a "true" story of a "real" person who, despite her good bearing was reduced to infamy, and then, of course, died. Like you do, if you listen to the silver-tongued badgerings of a man who's walking the tightrope of ill repute. Charlotte Temple herself is a naive schoolgirl with a good family and not a blemish on her except her blinding stupidity. Her school's French teacher, a lady of bad character, sneaks Charlotte out with her to meet some soldiers who are stationed nearby. Charlotte is overwhelmed by the lovemaking (old meaning) of the man whose father warned him that he must marry a girl with a good inheritance. He is confused, because he likes Charlotte, who has little inheritance, but she assumes he will marry her, so he acts as if he has good intentions, and Charlotte never presses the issue. The cunning French teacher, tired of teaching French, plans to travel with the soldiers to America, where they are soon embarking to... fight us. (Charlotte Temple is set in the 1770s and was published in 1794. It's a linguistic archeopteryx, as the book is perfectly readable but everyone says "prithee" often and without irony.) Charlotte prepares to meet the French teacher and the soldier boys as they are embarking and tell them a meek and comely "no," but she faints and is bundled into a carriage. At this point her honor is irreparably lost, and her pregnancy and death will come as no surprise. (Her parents raise the baby.) Despite being a meh book, Charlotte Temple was the bestsellingest novel in America until Harriet Beecher Stowe blew it out of the water with Uncle Tom's Cabin.http://surfeitofbooks.blogspot.com/20...
—Emily
